


Breakaway

by Doranwen, Percygranger



Category: The Pretender (TV)
Genre: Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 20:29:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11112267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doranwen/pseuds/Doranwen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Percygranger/pseuds/Percygranger
Summary: "Have you ever thought about leaving the Centre?"





	Breakaway

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trobadora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trobadora/gifts).



> Doranwen: My first attempt at this fic was nowhere near good enough, so Percy came to the rescue and helped me rewrite it extensively. Any errors left are all mine.

Miss Parker paced as she watched Broots type interminably. He rubbed his temples and sighed deeply before lowering his hands back to the keyboard.

"I presume that we will be here one more day, then?" Sydney asked.

"Yeah, we'll have to talk to some of these people in person," Broots said.

"Then I will see you all tomorrow morning," Sydney said as he collected his coat and turned to leave the room.

"Where are you going, Syd?" asked Miss Parker.

"The park across the street is lovely this hour of the evening. I believe I shall enjoy the sunset." He smiled. "Good luck, Broots."

The computer tech dipped his head in response and turned back to the computer as the hotel room door clicked. The laptop beeped as he hit a dead end and he sighed again.

"What's gotten under your tail today, Broots?" Miss Parker asked in an irritated tone. "Your moping is interfering with your work."

"It's Debbie," he said with a sigh.

"What about her? Come on, get to the point," she said, motioning for him to speed up.

"We got into another argument on the phone this morning."

"So I heard. She's a teenager; what do you expect?" She rolled her eyes.

"You didn't hear some of the things she said." He looked at his hands, shoulders slumped. "She's never been like that before."

She shrugged. "So, she's growing up. She's probably trying to be like friends at school."

"Actually… she's trying to be like you." Broots looked up at her, frustrated.

Miss Parker stared.

"She wants to be just like you, you know."

Miss Parker's gaze slid from Broots to the window overlooking the bay below. "You can go," she said. She barely heard Broots' muttering as he packed up the laptop to return to his room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She tried to ignore his comments. What did she care if a kid was acting out? She had more important things to worry about: death threats from Mr. Raines, potential sabotage from her twin, and a little brother who was a prisoner of the Centre as much as Jarod ever was.

It was the story of their childhood all over again. A Pretender locked up, a child damaged by her parent's involvement. When would it end?

A part of her already knew the answer: never. Not as long as they could trap them there. And leaving meant death. Hadn't her mother's example demonstrated that? When she herself had tried to leave, they'd killed Thomas to show her that she would never be free. A part of her had died that day with him.

 _But Jarod left_ , a tiny voice inside her said. He was alive. He was free.

Had she been copying the wrong people all along? She had Pretended her parents' personalities long before she knew what Pretending was. Neither was a good choice. Her mother was too weak and trusted the wrong people. Her father (she refused to apply that term to Raines)… his first priority was always the Centre.

Jarod, on the other hand, had succeeded. How had he done it? She suspected it was in no small part due to his ability as a Pretender. But she also had to admit it was because he didn't try to do it all alone. He had worked with others to get out and stay out.

Maybe that was the key. Teamwork. She laughed a little in wry self-recognition. One thing she **wasn't** so good at. But Jarod was. _I'm going to have to ask him for help, aren't I?_ she realized. _Damn it!_ He would have that smug grin of his, too. She scowled to herself.

She let her eyes drift over the boats in the harbor, visible through the window. A few rocked gently with the waves' motion, moored tightly. One motorboat putted steadily past the big ships, taking itself around the bend and out of sight.

She could be like that boat, to command her own life freely, to go where she wished. If they did everything right… She barely dared to breathe for a moment as she examined the variables in her head. _It would have to be **all** of us, though. Not one left behind._ A tiny flame of hope flickered in her heart; she barely recognized it for what it was. She would have to think very, very carefully tonight. And tomorrow… Tomorrow she would begin to act.

* * *

Miss Parker let out a sigh of disgust as they left the building, squinting in the late afternoon sun. "Well, **that** was a bust. Jarod probably won't revisit them anyway." She got into the rental car, Broots and Sydney following suit. "In fact," she said, pulling away from the curb, "I doubt he's been there in the past six months."

"You don't know that for sure, and we did agree to look into Jarod's locations for the last year," Sydney said.

"Don't remind me," she said with a groan. "You did check next door at least, Broots?"

"Yes, I did! I checked just like every time since…" he trailed off and scratched the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah, there's been no sign of him anywhere nearby," he mumbled.

She grinned a little to herself, stepping on the gas as the light turned green.

"But I can use my laptop to set up a few monitoring traces in case he returns," he said.

Traffic was surprisingly light for that hour of the afternoon, and it wasn't long before Miss Parker was pulling up in front of the hotel. "Broots, meet us at the Italian restaurant down the street in an hour," she called to the tech as he emerged from the backseat. "Syd, stay here," she told him before he could do more than unbuckle his seatbelt and open the car door.

Sydney glanced at her in surprise, but obeyed her command. She caught him giving her side glances as she drove into the parking garage entrance and circled down to the first available spot. She put the car into park and turned off the ignition. He was quick to follow her out of the car, up the elevator, and outside.

As they crossed the street, he finally spoke. "You seem… unsettled today."

Miss Parker just looked at him before continuing to a park bench a reasonable distance from the walking path. She sat down and folded her hands in her lap, waiting as Sydney settled himself beside her. Her eyes focused on the artificial pond in the center, where a couple geese were having a noisy discussion. "I've been thinking," she said at last.

Sydney made a small noise of encouragement, watching her intently.

"Have you ever thought about leaving the Centre?" She turned to face him. "Disappearing from their radar entirely."

His eyes reflected shock at the question, and it was a few seconds before he answered her. "I don't believe I had ever considered it before, no."

"Start thinking about it. We have to work together if we're going to succeed."

Sydney stared at her in stunned disbelief. "You're actually serious about this, Parker."

"I am." She gazed back calmly.

"Why now?"

She considered his question for a moment. "Because I've been thinking, about Debbie, about my little brother… Debbie's trying to be like me. I haven't even **seen** my little brother because they're keeping him locked up."

"Leaving the Centre is a permanent decision, and we would all be in grave danger. Why not try to improve things from inside?"

"Don't you see, Syd? It's me and Jarod all over again." She pressed her lips together before continuing. "I realized that it's a cycle that's never going to end unless we break it, and the only way to do that is for all of us to leave completely."

"And who is 'all of us'?"

"Me. You. Broots and Debbie. My little brother. Sam… maybe."

"And Angelo?"

"Him too."

Sydney leaned back and gazed at the pond for a couple minutes. He propped his chin in one hand, fingers lightly resting by his mouth. "Do you have a plan?" he asked finally.

"I know where to get one."

* * *

A few days later Miss Parker found herself taking stock of the contents of her house. Her mind catalogued each item into three categories: items that would stay, items she would take with her, and items she hoped to find somewhere to send, quietly, so they could be retrieved when it was safe to do so. She was going through each drawer of her dresser when she pulled out one drawer to find it mostly empty. The one item in the bottom, however, she recognized instantly: it was a shirt that had belonged to Thomas. Her hands slowly lifted it, and she closed her eyes as she pressed it to her face.

He had wanted her to be free, and yet she had stayed after his death. _Not anymore_ , she thought. It was time she got out and made his loss worth something.

The ring of her cell phone startled her out of her thoughts. It had to be Jarod, of course. Who else would call her at this hour? She placed the shirt back in the drawer and pressed the phone to her ear with a grin. "Just the person I wanted to speak with.”

"Miss Parker?" Jarod sounded puzzled. She felt a sense of great satisfaction at hearing that tone in his voice.

"I need your help with something."

The other end of the phone call was silent for a long moment. Miss Parker held her breath, motionless. "What do you need?" came his voice, calm and steady.

She sighed in relief, and felt her grin returning. "Can you find a way to make seven of us disappear?"

**Author's Note:**

> This fic does end here, and I have no plans to continue the story of their escape from the Centre. If someone else would like to do so, you're welcome to! Just comment after reveals with your e-mail address so we can get in touch; I'd love to hear what you're planning on doing with it.


End file.
